snow white is an alien and dopey is everyone’s favorite dwarf

how does it feel to relinquish
to let go and dive into pools
pools of joyful ignorance
pools of infant arrogance
to forget care and caution
to reject compassion and consequence
to be foolishly unremorseful and gluttonous
if simplicity were a gown, surely it would be lace and lamé
i would adorn myself in it daily
i do not want riches or royalty
i do not want to be powerful
i want to listen to music
without instruments, just technology
i want to appreciate the plight
of not being able to find a bitch to fuck
i want to wear nike and not care about the warehouses
i would love to find prefab premade processed food
in bags in boxes on shelves in stores and not read the ingredients
i want to not know the side-effects of monosodium glutamate
to never see a fantasy re-enactment of the process and production
“partially defatted fatty tissue-the musical”
i want to be blind to mc-ee-d’s and their magical meat
the bread that will never mold and a crypt of special sauce
i want an orange tan from a can and curly locks from a box
i want an over-sized-hot-wheel sports utility vehicle
to cruise around in listening to fake music
talking shit with my fake friends about the other fake friends
and eating my two number 4’s
and not giving a damn about the enviroment
or the slavery or the repercussions or the oppression
but there are some of us born with the burden of this
we see in every action the possible and probable reactions
we know footsteps handshakes and bad business deals create tsunamis
and therefore we must always be burdened with forethought
there can be no shrugging off responsibility
it finds us like a mangy dog no one wants to pet
it haunts our dreams and our moments in restrooms
screams of the tortured past present and future
create tumors in our bodies and minds
we do not need meetings and diplomacy
we do not need figures and graphs
when we see wrong we do, we act, we verb
because humanity must be humane
we know our silence is consent

monsters eating the world

dear uncle sam and friends,

no taxation without representation

the battle cry of old school terrorists

can someone tell me who represents:

transgender people

people of color

those stamped convict

the dykes and fags

the old woman eating cat food to buy medicine

those unable to read

those unable to write

junkies with jobs

the families living in junk yard cars

the single mother of a disabled child

hell, the disabled child

the hungry

the desperate

the mentally ill

the pious without jesus

the starving

the others

where is their representation

who is speaking for them

is there one person standing tall

marginalization of the marginalized

no interpreter of legalese available

leaving us drowning in confusion

the pretty paper and preamble

the bill of rights-dead and stinkin

nothing eliminates the smell of a dying soul

legislation passed revoking fundamental liberties

war crimes against kids in new york, new york


bashing skulls

suffocation by jalapenos

buying big guns and big bombs and big tits

mcdonalds the corporate sponsor of red white and blue

koch brothers footin the bill paying for exemptions

spending $0.75 of each tax dollar on death

while blaming it on the poor needing food

prisons built turning profits with every criminal

the future home of the lower class guaranteed

lack of education

lack of community

lack of family

the child that sits on a cot among rows of cots

placed there because mommy and daddy had a plant

that’s story

the classic art sold to the masses

declaring war on drugs the most profitable option

there is plenty of return on that one, bob!

war on terror is justification of genocide

killing children

bombing the ill

destroying schools

“oops!  my bad!” and a prefab press release

where are my representatives insisting ceasefire

where are the great minds of government and golf

deemed more capable of speaking my truth than i am

it can’t go on

distended bellies

destruction and death

the shattering of families

breaking communities

no meaningful prevention

no meaningful rehabilitation

just the metamorphosis from desperate to psychopath


blood sacrifice

fully-automatic guns

just distractions and justification of oppression

oooo it’s real!!!

oooo it's real!!!

this reasoning is so ridiculous that my eyes are crossed and i feel the need to smash a brick over this guy’s head! i am utterly beyond disgusted at this! i really really really wish that these rightwing idiot dicks would please learn a bit about prenatal development! sorry a fetus is not even a fetus for the first like 6 weeks, there is no brain until 20 weeks and no, i mean no, neuroprocessing until 24 weeks. on top of that they have no consciousness it’s reaction to stimuli, not any decision making! are you kidding me? a fetus can’t feel shit until 24+ weeks, and don’t think there is any state in the union sanctions post 24 week abortions unless there is a medically necessary reason-fetal or maternal distress-and even then it’s considered birth not abortion and the fetus will be treated like a premature newborn. they have gills or what passes for gills! are you kidding me???
my belief is that if a guy can get away w raping a woman, i can get away with cutting the balls off of every single guy who’s name starts with “l” shoving them in his ears because at least then i am killing anything.

carnival only comes once a year!!!

boys and girls children of all ages just step right up

welcome to the fun-filled carnival of hate and slavery

take an adventure into the exotic house of horrors and lies

don’t forget to check out the new exhibit-pariahs on parade

to the left, get cup of cyanide and grape flavored drink

we are proud to offer a chance to win the competition

the name of the game is “happy murder, happy day”

the first three shots are free, then it’s time to pay

the cost is cheap, endless tries for your humanity

just aim and pull the trigger, simple as can be

easy peasy lemon squeezy, even no need to think

send the hatred hurling, hit the beggars bound in chains

a broken face and broken will the beautiful red dripping

forming tidal pools, the more they bleed the more you win

what are the prizes, you ask, this is only for today

you shot down one, you take it home, mount it on the wall

it only gets better from there, the more you hit and fall

the more you win as you climb toward the big score

i see you salivating as you inhale the smell of death

grand prize if you take them out, a clean shot through the head

lucky you! we’ll string you up so the next one shoots you dead


mine is bigger than yours


fresh off the presses

it’s nice to meet you

i see you are gay

don’t worry, i am accepting

i once knew a woman

who had a cousin that was one

you know he was

ummmm…like you

then i read a book

about timmy and his two mommies

and before i threw it in the fire

i thought how timmy must feel

and i was a bit concerned

but only because if he had

two mommies who taught

the poor child to pee standing up?

i am an expert on all things gay!

once there was a black man

who worked in the warehouse

he was good for a black guy.

we weren’t friends, but we talked occasionally.

i heard some of that martin luther king jr speech.

i am an expert in being a person of color.

there was one day, i talked to a muslim woman

she told me her beauty is a gift

i told her to take the damn scarf off her face

and get with the program of the new world

this isn’t the 19th century anymore.

a tear fell from her eye and became a stain

on the mask she chooses to wear

no man or god can tell me what to do!

i did see that documentary over

the prophet muhammad on the history channel

i now an expert on all things islamic.

one day i was getting into my prius

my sweet sweet hippie-mobile

with the proper amount of bumper stickers

showing my progressive politics

letting everyone know how

radical i am in my efforts to

change the world making it a better place.

i read this article on the ozone layer

i am an expert on all things ecological

a black man who was obviously on crack

came and asked for some change.

he said he was hungry and all

though he was skin and bones

his face ghostly, gaunt, quite ashen

there was no way i was going

to help this man buy more drugs

i saw an intervention once or twice

i am an expert on all drug use.

one day i was walking through the park

and this thing passed me on the hiking trail

it was a shim-you know a man dressed like a woman

obviously not a real woman, the walk releasing

all the secrets attached to his genitals

i changed courses and caught up to him.

i told him i just had a few questions

“so do you have a you know…penis?

where do you put it?  is it really little

and that is why you dress like a girl?”

he broke into a run for some reason

it seemed almost as though he

didn’t want to tell me

what’s going on in his pants

but i am entitled that information

i have gone to a drag show

they are really funny

i am an expert on all things transvestite.

another day i was driving to the grocery store

and the cars were going less than 20 miles an hour

it was so slow, and really i had somewhere i needed to be

i had no time for this nonsense

i switched lanes and saw a man in a wheelchair

puttering down the road holding up traffic.

there aren’t sidewalks, but i doubt

he really needed to be somewhere

bad enough to hold up traffic

one day i read a book about a woman

who lost her legs in an accident.

i am an expert on all things disabled.

i don’t see the trouble

i don’t understand what these people

have to be upset about.

i have known oppression

i was born with a vagina and not a penis

not even a nubbin of a penis

is quite horrible, but i smile through

the difficulty

it’s only natural for men

to oogle me

it makes me feel




i  have been able to swim

the river of oppression

and i have had it much worst

than those others who chose

to not blend in

insisting on

their personal identity being counted

i am an expert on all things oppressive!

so if all those people would just shut up

at least try to look normal

stop being so weird

life would be much more simple

there are gay conversion clinics

organizations teaching muslim women not to submit

the trannies decide to go into public like that

there are drug rehab facilities

the cripples are looking for sympathy

the poor need to stop being so lazy

my difficulty is unavoidable

my oppression is the real deal

i am sick of people wallowing

in the “poor me” mud

that it is their choice

to be knee deep in anyway

but no one can understand

the pressures facing the

white middle class educated employed married

heteronormative cisgender woman

my barrel is overflowing with turmoil

there is no one coming to my aid

my oppression beats those others

in size, weight and density.

what they need is to stop being such

whiny asses especially when

they brought it all on themselves

-to win the three-legged race for being the most oppressed.  grand prize the beautiful cardboard crown, a blue ribbon, and a sash.

i think next year i should get the grand prize trophy

my anthem-an attempt at cheerful rhyming

one pig two pig

red white and blue pig

tell me how does the pig

find harmony, you dig?

what does it take to be free

opening my eyes and just to see

my oppression is caused solely by me

decisions to stand up and to fight

for what i tell me is right

i will not succumb to the horrors and fright

fighting for all

some big and some small

skinny, fat, stumpy, tall

it’s time to get up and sing

within yourself

“let freedom ring

to hell with the king!!”

let the prisoners go

demanding justice all night and day-o

kick and scream until all masters fall down, yo!


so does anyone have the gps location of the revolution?


when i read or hear or talk to others about revolution, it is spoken like it is some action to be taken in the future.  when the idea of stopping discrimination by bucking the oppressors of “minorities” is said as though the oppressors have a headquarters set up somewhere, and one day the oppressed-anyone who is not wasp, rich (mindlessly rich-never paid a real bill rich),cis-male, heterosexual-are going to jump in their environmentally sound machines and turn the joint over, stealing our power back bc they took it away and keep it in a floor safe under lock and key guarded by a cerberus-like hellhound on pcp!!!  i run this through my mind as they are talking or i am reading and see it all play out usually in silent anime form with loads of jitsu, cleavage and beams of light.  but when i am alone and i think of these concepts my reality is a bit different.

everyday is a revolution.  it is not something that is going to happen someday somewhere maybe.  it is something i do daily.  it’s thinking, living, breathing, wanting, and loving my way.  it is living w other creatures in a productive atmosphere.  it is dancing when i have no legs, singing when i have no words and defying gods of the social constructs.  it is doing what is right for no reward except to do what is right.  it is laughing even when i am poor, it is walking down the street in the rain holding the hand of the woman i love even when they told me not to.  it is making decisions based on morality that is not up for debate.  revolution is waking up everyday and being me.

noone controls my power!  noone can take my power from me!  they can try to convince me i have no power or the power i do have is insufficient, but that only works if i believe the lie that someone else knows what is best for me better than i do.  when i decided to not wait for permission, i became in control of my power, and i can only be oppressed if i give up my rights of my own will.  

we have choices.  we all do.  we all have different choices than the ppl next to us.  we all have potential.  we all have power.  i chose to make a mark.  i chose to make my voice be heard.  i chose to never live in a shadow or a cave.  i will not give up my power to anyone else.  i have inherent worth and dignity-we call do, noone needs to tell us we are important bc we just are!  because of the choices i have made, my fingerprint is on mankind, as small as that seems in relation to other’s, it’s still there.  i will never leave the same fingerprint as ghandi, but why would i want to?  i leave my own!  through my children, through my friends, through my family, through my actions, through my words!  i live my revolution this moment!